


The Death of A Bachelor

by zankiefanatic



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Jock Ian, M/M, Nerd Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-21 23:48:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6062692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zankiefanatic/pseuds/zankiefanatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey Milkovich is the smartest kid in school with beautiful baby blues, buddy holly glasses, and a bad mouth. Ian is the jock with tattoos, a sharp tongue, and a sparking personality. what happens when these two worlds collide? Magic or heartache. We'll just have to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'M BACK BITCHES!!!!!!!! 
> 
> I'M SO SORRY I'VE BEEN GONE THIS LONG BUT SCHOOL IS KICKING MY ASS, WORK IS KICKING MY ASS, AND I'VE HAD NO INTERNET.  
> I hope this eases the wound a little bit.
> 
> BY THE WAY: this story was heavily influenced by Oh Mickey, You're So Fine by Guardianhathaway. I read this first and absolutely adored it, and then saw a post on tumblr with Ian photo shopped with tattoos and Mickey with glasses on and I couldn't resist. If It does sound super familiar that's why and I apologize if anyone thought I was trying to copy them because that surely was not my intention.

Mickey Milkovich was probably the only person in the school who could get into Harvard. He had thick black rimmed glasses like Buddy Holly that you barely ever saw, because his head was always shoved in a book. He'd gotten a perfect on his SATs . . . in the eighth grade when he took 'em, and was in every AP class the shitty public school offered. Everyone knew he was gonna do some shit with his life. Big things, lots of potential, all that shit. So it was actually sort of poetic that Ian Gallagher crashed into his life the way he did. Really.

Ian Gallagher was destined for jack shit according to society. He had tattoos crawling up his neck like wafts of smoke. The sides of his head were buzzed leaving a fringe of orange hair to be gelled slick back. He was tall and broad shouldered and intimidated anyone who came within a three mile radius of him. He also just happened to be sexy as all fuck. Your classic bad boy who nine times out of ten would have a cigarette between his ear instead of a pen. The tiny black gages in his ear were his latest experiment and seeing as how every girl he passed in the hall seemed to have trouble not falling over when he walked through the halls. Too bad he was a gold star top. He found it funny regardless.

Where Ian was out going and loud, Mickey was shy and reserved. He stayed to himself in school and only usually sat with his sister at lunch if anything. Most of the time, he ate in the back of the library with a book or homework. He liked to be by himself. Talking to people was just unnecessary and quite frankly a waste of his time. This mentality had a lot to do with the isolation that comes with being some kind of "genius". The kids decided he wasn't normal, so he never really got to be. What he would go on to discover was that Ian Gallagher wasn't like everybody else. At all.

Mickey was sitting up against one the walls of books with a book in his lap and a sandwich in hand when Ian showed up. He was walking confidently, swagger dripping from every step as he came to stand directly next to Mickey. Mickey looked up to watch as the tall redhead stretched to reach for a book, a tiny sliver of skin peeping out where his shirt protruded. Mickey wasn't dumb, obviously; Ian Gallagher was hot as all fuck. But he'd seen Ian and his friends party with Mandy before and knew that wasn't even remotely in his league. A boy can dream though.

Just as the confusion of what the big, bad Ian Gallagher was doing in the library hit, Mickey spotted the librarian snooping on Ian from afar.

"Have you read this book?" Ian sighed plopping down on the floor beside Mickey.

His body went into shock when their arms touched. Literal fireworks. It was absolutely the gayest Mickey had ever felt.

"Just go with it." He whispered lethally in his ear.

Mickey worked to clear his throat. "Um, yea. Y—yea I read it. It's actually pretty good. The second is better, although the third is probably my favorite. The protagonist actually has a pretty down to earth tone. I enjoyed it rather than feeling like I was being whined at, ya know?"

Ian chuckled deliciously. "Yea, I understand. I think I'll read it. Thanks."

"Mhm."

They both turned to see Ms. Gillensky eyes tighten suspiciously before she gave up and returned to the head of the library.

Ian sighed a sigh of relief. "Fuck, thanks man she's been on my ass all week. If I get caught cutting class one more time I'm fucked."

"You could actually go to class every now and again. I hear they work some wonders in there."

Ian turned to get a better look at him not used to witty sarcasm. This guy was kind of an asshole, but in a good way.

"Yea well, you don't set records for most skipped classes without some effort. I got a rep to protect."

Mickey snorted and fuck was it adorable. "I know the feeling."

"I'm Ian."

"Mickey."

"I know."

They continued to stare at each other, each one assessing the other. Mickey loved Ian's tattoos and the need to see the rest of them was incessant. Ian loved Mickey's glasses and wanted to make them fog up in all sorts of dirty, disgusting ways. He had beautiful, full lips and Ian had a thing or two he wanted to do to those too. Jesus.

"You uh . . . come here often?"

Oh god. How truly terrible. _Come here often???_  There goes that.

Ian smirked. "I'm starting to see the appeal. What about you?"

"It's quieter than the cafeteria. I can get my work done faster, so I don't gotta do it at home." Mickey shrugged.

"Yea? What do you do at home then?"

And Mickey would go to his grave saying that smug fucker licked his lips. Like who does that? Mickey crossed his legs tighter, book moving to cover any sign of the half chub growing in his pants. Ian's eyes flickered down, and he knew he was gay the way a woman knows when another woman is wearing makeup. That shit is like a sixth sense. Mickey was gay and he was everything Ian Gallagher wanted. And the good news was Ian always got what he wanted.

"I just uh . . . listen to music and shit. Try to stay out my old man's way." Mickey gulped.

"Yea my dad's kind of asshole too."

Mickey just smiled softly to himself. "Aren't all dads?"

"Yea, I guess so. What are you reading anyway?"

Mickey shrunk back at that. It was one thing to help a guy pick a book out, and another thing entirely to show him the books you read. He could feel the laughter already.

His head slumped eyes falling into his lap.

"It's just a book. No big deal."

Ian watched him, saw how uncomfortable he was at the topic and kept pushing simply because that's what he does.

"What kind of book?" He asked.

"Science-fiction." Mickey sighed.

"What like dragons and witches and warlocks? That kind of shit?"

Mickey nodded shyly. "Sometimes, yea."

Ian leaned his head back against the wall of books and hummed.

"Never read that kind of stuff before. You'll have to read it to me sometime, when we're both avoiding our dads."

Mickey laughed at that and Ian was positive it was the most beautiful sound he'd heard in his entire life. He needed to hear more of that pronto.

"You uh got a lot of studying to do tonight or should I drop by after the lights go out?" Ian asked boldly reaching into his pocket for a pack of smokes and a lighter.

Mickey's face was truly priceless. Ian had a pretty good idea of what Mickey liked, but that didn't necessarily mean Mickey knew. He'd dealt with a couple closet cases, and it wasn't exactly like he went around school screaming his homosexuality to the heavens either. But he knew, in the way that Ian always knew with the boys he fucked. What he didn't know yet, was that Mickey could give it just as good as he took it.

"You're not exactly the type of boy to take home to mother."

That got Ian to give a little laugh of his own. And when Mickey saw the way his face lit up it made his knees go numb, and he'd never been so grateful to be sitting down.

"So I'm guessing the window in the back is yours, and if I showed up at around . . . say ten that window might be open. What do you think?"

Mickey grinned. "I think if you put that much optimism into your studies, we might actually have a class together."

Another laugh, this one loud and wild. It made Mickey feel like he was seeing Ian for the first time. A softer, goofier version of him. He liked it.

"Smart kids always so fucking sarcastic?" Ian chuckled.

"It's pretty much the only way to get through the day."

The bell rung then, telling Mickey that it was time to head to his next class and he had a rep of his own to protect.

"I'll see you tonight then, right?" Ian asked sending Mickey a hopeful smile that looked amazing in contrast with his tattoos.

"Yea. Tonight."

Ian gave him a once over that made Mickey feel like his blood was boiling in his veins. He felt defenseless and ready to be devoured, which showed perfectly on his face. Ian licked his lip one more time before disappearing and giving Mickey the chance to watch him, or that ass, walk away. It wasn't until Ian was gone that the foggy lust began to disappear and he realized that he, Mickey Milkovich, had basically just agreed to let the neighborhood bad boy fuck him in his bed despite very much being a virgin. _Fuck._

*                                                                                             *                                                                             *

Mickey's asshole was clean. Like as far as clean assholes go, Mickey's was the cleanest. He'd spent forty five minutes in the shower making sure of that. He snuck into Mandy's room and stole one of her sleeve of condoms, and took his time stretching himself out. Mickey may've been a virgin, but he wasn't oblivious. He just hoped Gallagher didn't switch it up on him and decide to bottom.

 As much as he could prepare for the night before him, he did. Their father always worked long hours so when he was home he was out for the count, and their mother was an early sleeper as well. Mickey had watched Mandy for years, sneaking out or bringing guys back, and she seemed to always get away with it. Why shouldn't he to get have some fun too?

It was pushing ten thirty when Mickey heard the rap on the window. He'd been reading a book for his AP Lang class, but quickly threw that to the side and scrambled towards the glass.

"Hey." Mickey breathed taking him in.

Ian wore an old, weathered leather jacket and a t-shirt just the right side of too small. His tattoos that covered his neck were beautiful, and Mickey couldn't help but salivate over the idea of seeing them up close. He wasn't so much nervous about the idea of losing his virginity as he was terrified of being bad at it. He wasn't unfamiliar to his asshole or even his prostate on occasion, but this was Ian fucking Gallagher. Ian exuded sex like it came out his pores. He was confident and zealous and sexy and wonderful . . . Mickey just got straights As. It wasn't difficult for him to see the differences between them.

"You waited up for me. How romantic." Ian grinned pulling himself through the window so that his feet touched the floor.

Mickey watched him peel that leather jacket and had to physically restrain himself from making it his religion. This was ridiculous. He had on a hoodie and sweatpants, what kind of cruel world was this?!

"Your parents asleep?"

Mickey nodded watching Ian toe his shoes off. "Yea, they're out like a light."

"Good. C'mere."

Ian grabbed him by his hips immediately sliding down to the thing he'd been thinking about all afternoon. Mickey's ass was absolutely astounding. It was plump and firm, fat as all hell really and Ian was dying to see it in the flesh.

"I been thinkin' about you all day." He huffed fingers digging into the globes as he moved back towards the bed. "Got so much I wanna do to you."

The air flew from Mickey's lungs as he was tossed to the bed carelessly, Ian looming over him while his fingers tugged off his tight v-neck. His stomach was a wonderland of ridges and bumps all ending in a luscious v shape that was like an x marks the spot . . . but for dick. Mickey reached his fingers up to Ian's belt tugging to get to his prize, when it struck him just what they were doing.

"I'm a virgin. Just so you know." He panted still very much zoned in on that zipper.

"A v—virgin?"

Mickey tugged at Ian's boxers hand touching the warm flesh waiting for him. His fingers molded over it squeezing softly as it began to harden. It was only a touch, but Jesus, it felt so good.

"Mhm. Just try to work with me here."

Turns out blow jobs are fun. Who knew? Mickey always thought that jabbing your mouth with a meat stick couldn't be nearly as amusing as people in porn made it look, but what an interesting turn of events. He liked the power aspect of it. He loved to look up and see Ian in so much pleasure, teetering on the edge of self-control. Running his hands along that ravishing stomach and pulling him closer or farther, it was all up to him, and he loved every second of it. The heavy weight on his tongue oozing pre-cum wasn't too bad either. It got him harder than anything he'd ever seen before, and Ian definitely noticed.

"Jesus, hold up a sec." He groaned fingers already a fist in Mickey's hair. "Take your clothes off."

Everything from there is fast and fumbly like it always is with teenagers. Ian got Mickey onto his back and then his lips started doing things that even Mickey's brain couldn't comprehend. They were everywhere on his body, sucking and grazing hungrily at the flesh. Mickey marked up like a bruised fucking peach, and Ian loved every second of it. The sounds he made were just as tantalizing, but those had to be covered up with Ian's hand so no one heard.

At first, Ian was irritated by the fact that Mickey was a virgin. He thought he'd have to take things slow, and ruin all the fun, but Mickey's enthusiasm was so high he was practically more ready to go than Ian was. Of course Mickey had no idea that fucking sea biscuit was waiting inside Ian's boxers, and had he known things would've definitely gone a little bit differently. Who gets to be that beautiful and have a massive penis? The world is clearly unbalanced.

"I don't have—"

"Hey it's okay, I got you." Ian grinned sliding down to nibble at Mickey's hip.

Mickey bucked towards the feeling of Ian's mouth wondering how he'd gone so long without that feeling. He pulled the golden magnum package out of his jeans and place it on the bed as his mouth kept destroying Mickey with every touch.

"Fuck, Ian." He whimpered body bowing into the bed.

Ian licked his way down Mickey's stomach yanking at those pesky boxers and unveiling a true delight. That ass was diabolical. And the fact that he barely had to prep him was even better. Mickey responded to every touch of his body and that made him absolutely filthy in the sack. They were wrapped up in the same blankets he'd had since the eighth grade and never had he thought he'd lose his virginity on them.  And losing his virginity to Ian Gallagher? Well if this was a dream, he hoped he never woke up.

Mickey's legs wound naturally around Ian's back and his moved his face into Ian's neck lavishing at the art inked into his skin with tongue and teeth. It kept him quiet(er) and let Ian focus on thrusting. When he found his rhythm the bed began a gentle squeak, and their hips began to smack together noisily under the covers, but the feeling each of them felt inside was unlike anything they'd ever felt before.

Though they weren't exactly talkative, Ian through choice and Mickey though lack of experience, that didn't mean either of them was silent. Ian was panting roughly in Mickey's ear with every thrust, his hips pistoning in and out in quick succession. This of course caused Mickey to make some noises of his own. The heels of his feet dug into Ian's back as he worked relentlessly to move his hips closer to that feeling. His thighs burned with every clench of his muscles and he couldn't help the grunts of desperation.

And then there was that moment where their bodies aligned perfectly and Mickey felt him touch that **spot.** That bundle of nerves that always made him thrash and buck. Ian didn't just touch it, he rammed through it, over and over again dragging against that place inside of him that could really make it all come crashing down. His dick leaked heavily against his stomach. His mouth turned into an O against the inked out rose on Ian's neck, and his fingers became fists at the hair at nape of his neck, body moving against its will just chasing that feeling, chasing that high.

"I'm gonna—shit I'm gonna—fuck. Fuck."

"Shhhh shhhh. I'm right here. I got you." Ian whispered against his ear fingers reaching for Mickey's neglected cock to work him through his orgasm.

His grip was tight and he kept at it, thrusting delectably against Mickey's prostate as he came and milking every drop of it. His other hand came up to grab at Mickey's hip before working himself over the edge too.

"Fuck Mickey." He gasped wetly as those walls tightened down on him and he lost it.

They huffed and puffed willing themselves to stay quiet as the bliss pulsed through them in waves. It was unworldly, the way they clenched themselves together so rigid through all that pleasure, that by the time they let go it was like spikes in their fingertips. It was perfect.

"Holy fuck, man. That was good." Mickey chuckled.

Ian looked over at Mickey who was completely giggly and blissed out. It was kind of beautiful to just look at him, and he knew that he wouldn't mind staring at him for a while. He reached for his pants on the floor fishing out a cigarette and a lighter. They sat in the bed shoulder to shoulder passing a cigarette back and forth for a few minutes. Mickey was wondering if Ian would leave soon, and Ian was wondering why they he hadn't left already. Ian was pretty known for the pump and dump, but sitting next to Mickey had him struggling to . . . dump him.

"You're a virgin?" Ian asked on an exhale of smoke.

Mickey smirked. "Obviously not anymore. Were you there just now?"

Ian chuckled passing the cigarette onto Mickey, who had better things to do than smoke at the moment.

"So . . . you leavin' or you wanna go again?"

They locked eyes full blown grins lighting up each of their faces as the cigarette was quickly discarded. It was a good night that resulted in the most beautiful ache anyone could imagine. Good times.

 

                                                                *six months later*

Mandy peered at the chandelier above the dining room table. She was grounded again, for sneaking out or some other act of teenage rebellion, and was thus forced to stay at home and study. The real punishment was watching their ceiling try to withstand her brother getting his ass reamed to mars and back by his not-but-totally-is boyfriend. That was the real crime. And if you listened closely you might just hear the painstaking sounds of a teenage boy reaching orgasm. At least somebody was.

She put her eyes back in her book as Mickey came thumping down the stairs disheveled and out of breath. His clothes were rumpled, his hair was a mess, and the dumbass's glasses were crooked. And yet, somehow, he was the genius.

"Mom and Dad on their way home yet?" He asked from the kitchen.

She snorted. "I'm not sure. Would you like me the call the restaurant and see if their finished eating, so you know how much time you have to shove Ian out your window?"

"Fuck all the way off. Don't be mad at me cause one of us is much better at keepin' our shit on the down low."

"It pays to be a so-called genius. Though if you were smart at all you'd know that mom and dad always go to that restaurant in the city, which is at least a forty-five minute drive. And dad's not leaving till he's absolutely hammered, which we both know could take two hours maybe even three. And since they left after eight the chances of them getting back before midnight are slim to never gonna fucking happen."

Mickey emerged with enough snacks for an army. Apparently ass pounding is hungry work.

"Hmm . . . Nice going, sis. Now try to put that much thought into trig and maybe you'll pull in better than a C average." He smirked heading towards the stairs.

"Here. My folks won't be back until after midnight, and I'm sure my dad will be hammered and barely conscious, so you're good to stay. You know if you want."

Ian quickly dug into the food like someone was gonna steal it away. Mickey's protective streak flared watching Ian. He wondered when the last time he'd eaten was. The last six months had been crazy for the two of them. They'd grown close, as friends more than anything else. Mickey wasn't sure if they were dating, mostly due to Ian's' reluctance to talk about it. It didn't really matter to him. What mattered was as great as school was for Ian, home life didn't really seem to match up. Mickey had learned this two months into whatever they were when Ian had shown up too bruised to breathe let alone bang. That was the first time he'd stayed over.

Mickey found himself trying to help Ian in any way that he could. He cared about him, maybe more than he'd ever cared about anyone else in his life before. So if the role had to play was the protector, so be it.

"When's the last time you ate anyway?" Mickey asked softly.

"Been a few days. Dad's on a bender, can't go home till he tires himself out."

"Where do you sleep?"

Ian shrugged. "I usually couch surf. If life is really shitting on me I just ride the L till it stops and the McDonalds usually lets me crash in a booth for a couple hours before school."

Mickey groaned. "You're such a fucking idiot. You know you can stay here. No wonder you're barely passing; I don't know how you make it through the day! Goddammit Ian, you're staying here tonight, understand? Right here. With me."

It didn't sound nearly as possessive in his head, but the minute it came out his mouth he worried how Ian would react. Commitment wasn't the Ian Gallagher way, relationships were too messy; he'd heard the spiel, but just knowing Ian was out in the cold all night maybe him sick to his stomach. He couldn't cover how he felt in that moment.

Ian surprised him by grinning easily up at the angry boy, a glint in his eye that Mickey had grown to love. (Yes this word concerned him very much).

"You worried about me baby?" He asked playfully arms resting behind his head so that his t-shirt rode up exploring a pale sliver of skin.

Mickey swallowed. "Fuck off. You're not just some kid I bang, alright? You're . . . important. As a friend, or whatever. Look just come downstairs, so I can make you something other than Doritos? My ma cooks enough for ten people anyway."

They both chose to ignore the first part of that sentence, Ian lifting himself off Mickey's bed to follow him downstairs.

Mandy was still downstairs studying, but chose to watch the two move throughout the kitchen instead. The romantic tension was so strong, her chest felt tight just looking at them. She was sure that if they fell any harder in love, the planet might actually explode from cuteness overload. This was not meant as a compliment.

Mickey moved through the refrigerator picking out tins of tubberware and scooping helpings onto a plate, before placing it in the microwave. And Ian was there backing him up against the counter and sliding his hands up his waist until they were silently eating each other's faces. And to think she'd had the hots for Ian when they first met, and all he really wanted to do was get into her brother. What are the odds on that one? He not only got to be smart he got the guy too?! John Hughes hadn't prepared her for that.

Mickey shoved Ian towards the table bringing him food and a drink and his backpack. In-between mouthfuls of food he walked through every problem on his homework, hitting him on the nose with a pen every time he tried to get handsy. Ian found it funny. He also found it extremely weird to have someone care, and have someone expect something other than shit from him. All the hooks ups of Ian's life had been just that, hook ups, but Mickey was different, as difficult as that was for him to admit. Mickey was more.

"Ian's staying here tonight so, if you don't snitch I'll tell mom and dad you studied all night and went to bed. Deal?"

Mandy smirked watching Mickey's fingers worm around Ian's wrist. Fuck buddies. Sure.

"Sure, deal."

They disappeared back into the safe confines of Mickey's room flipping off lights and tugging off clothes before they sandwiched together under the covers. Mickey always took his glasses off in bed and sometimes there was an indent left on his nose that Ian had always wanted to kiss. That night he did and Mickey scrunched up his face so adorably Ian had to laugh. And they stared at each other, wrapped tightly in one another's arms, so happy to just be together. Mickey ran his fingers along Ian's neck, the ink there still beautiful as could be. Whatever they were, whatever that thing between them was supposed to be, it felt amazing, made them feel alive.

Mickey traced another one of the many tattoos along Ian's collarbone loving how scary he tried to be when he was really just a gigantic fluff ball.

"You should let me get you some ink sometime."

Mickey smiled. "Yea and just what would you have me get, tough guy?"

"Hmmm, I'm thinking Ian's Bitch along your chest wouldn't hurt. Maybe even on your ass?"

He cackled. "Fuck off!"

"You havin' commitment issues, Mick?"

"Oh yea, _I'm_ the one with commitment issues."

Ian quieted down at that and Mickey worried that he'd pushed him too far again. Mickey wasn't girly about it; he didn't need to change his relationship status on Facebook, or wear Ian's jacket at the football game so everyone knew they were going steady. All he wanted was Ian. To have him to himself. It would be more than enough.

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

Ian peered down at him, fingers thrumming against his sides. He nodded silently.

"When you leave, after we . . . Do you do that with anyone else?"

"Mick…"

"Do you?"

A pause.

"Don't ruin this."

Mickey's heart stopped.

"Fuck I'm so stupid." He gasped moving away quickly.

"You're not. Mickey, hey, come on."

"I forgot to lock the door downstairs. My mom'll be pissed." He mumbled yanking on sweatpants.

He was gone like that, leaving Ian stunned in his wake. This was the worst part. Ian had known it would end eventually he just figured maybe it'd last a little longer. Mickey had become so much more than a fuck buddy, now there were feelings evolved and no one could get out unscathed. The problem wasn't Mickey; Mickey was perfect in every way. The problem was Ian didn't do relationships. They were bad news, and he'd rather cut Mickey clean now than have it hurt so much more, later.

For a while he thought about leaving, but knew he had nowhere to go, no one to go to. All he really had was Mickey, though that seemed to be over now. Mickey who apparently wasn't coming back upstairs. Ian waited up until the comfort of the bed dragged him under and all that was left was a bitter taste in his mouth as he slept.

*                                                                                             *                                                                             *

 

Ian was standing by his locker fumbling with a cigarette when she got to him, strong arm whipping out and socking him hard in the shoulder.

"Jesus—Fuck Mandy!"

"What the fuck did you do huh?!"

He frowned. "I—I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't know what I'm talking about." She sneered fingers fisting into Ian's hair and slamming his head against the locker.

"Ow! Fuck!"

"Fix it, fix it today you hear me? Or so help me you'll end up in the bottom of fucking Lake Michigan."

She turned around with such stunning precision, Ian felt the air move from her hair whipping through the atmosphere. He was left with a headache, and a need to check on Mickey. He knew Mickey wouldn't have told Mandy, which could only mean it must be painstakingly obviously. So, he headed for Mickey's AP microeconomics class hoping a glance would satisfy the wanting in his chest. But there was no glance, because Mickey wasn't there. In fact he wasn't in the library, or the nurse, or even the cafeteria. Mickey wasn't at school at all, and that was proof positive that he'd fucked up. Mickey never missed school.

Before he knew it he was taking the L to get to Mickey's and didn't care at all about what had gone down over the weekend. All that mattered was that Mickey knew _he_ mattered. In fact he mattered more than anything.

Mrs. Milkovich opened the door to a boy huffing and puffing all over her door step. His tattoos and over all rugged appearance had her raising an eyebrow. When would Mandy ever learn?

"Hi—I mean hello, Mrs. Milkovich, Uh I'm Ian. I'm a friend of Mickey's. Mandy said he wasn't feeling well and that I should come check on him. I—I brought his homework from all his classes."

"Mickey? You're a friend of Mickey? My Mickey?"

"Y—yes ma'am." He stammered.

"Uh . . . come in, I supposed. He's up in his room. He's been running a temp though, so I can't ensure he'll speak to you."

He nodded heading for the stairs with ease, which did not go unbeknownst to Mrs. Milkovich. Ian took a deep breath outside the door to calm himself before knocking softly

"Ma I told you I don't want any soup! I'm fine. Just leave me alone."

Ian pushed through the door causing Mickey to yelp when he saw who it was. The pain in those crystal clear baby blues was enough to get Ian moving closer. Hurting Mickey made him feel like shit, because maybe he'd fallen into the cliché realm where Mickey's pain was his pain too.

"The fuck are you doing here?" Mickey spat pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Mandy came and told me pretty straight up how she felt about me. And then you weren't at school and I just . . . I wanted to make sure you're okay. I brought your school stuff."

"Yea well one day in three years ain't gonna kill me and I don't need your fucking sympathy so feel free to leave. Unless the door is too romantic for you, I'm sure I could gather the strength to push your dumb fucking face out the window one more time."

"Mickey…"

"Don't fuckin' 'Mickey' me alright? I got it. I'm good. You got what the fuck you wanted; it's done. I don't need you to come over here and try to let me down easy. My sister ain't my fuckin keeper; I'm a big boy."

"You think that's all I wanted, was to fuck you?" Ian asked.

He snorted. "I'm the 'genuis' remember?"

"Well fuck you, Mickey! We're more than that alright? You're my friend and I care about you, you're important to me."

"Just as long as I'm on all fours right?"

Ian tugged at his hair in frustration. "Goddammit, that's not fair; you know that's not true."

"What's not fair is you dragging your sorry ass over here trying to friendzone me after I let you in. You didn’t wanna be my fuckin' boyfriend, fine, I could live with that. I could get through that as long as we were in it together, as long as we were together. And it wasn't all in my head, it couldn't have been. You wanted it too, but you're too fucking afraid to admit it. So now you wanna play the friend card? I'm important to you now cause my sister kicked your ass? Fuck you, Gallagher I don't need shit from you. I'm not one of those fucking girls chasing you around all day; I'll be just fine without you. You hear me? Get the fuck out of here."

"Mickey please I just wanna…."

"Fuck. OFF!"

Mickey flipped over then, shutting himself off from Ian and ending the conversation. That was it. There was nothing left to say or do; he just kind of had to take it. Ian dropped Mickey's stuff of on his desk before stopping next to his bed. He couldn't imagine leaving things that way. He thought that a clean break was better, that it would make it easier, but it fuckin' didn't. All it did was leave a gaping hole in his chest and the worst part was knowing that it was all his fault.

"You weren't wrong Mick, about any of it. I wanted it too." He whispered.

Ian stepped out of Mickey's room closing the door and letting his head rest against the wood.

"Fuck."

He heard someone clear their throat behind him, which only made him just, but it was just Mrs. Milkovich.

"Oh, sorry about that. You uh, you were right; he's not feeling good. I should go. It was really nice meeting you." Ian mumbled.

She watched him walk away peering back and forth between the inked out redhead and her son's door. Though the screaming match had given her a lot of over whelming information, she didn't need to hear anything past the fact that her boy was in pain. So, she went inside and wrapped her arms around him without a word and as much as it hurt, as much it felt like his heart was bleeding out on the sheets Mickey couldn't help but feel as though that was the safest his bed had felt in days. Now if only he could get over the man shape hole in his chest.

 


	2. Love Me Harder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole school knows about Ian and Mickey's falling out, but that isn't going to stop Ian from making things right. Mickey is having none of it, but Ian is nothing if not persistent. Their reconciliation is on the minds of more than just them. Everyone is talking about.

Mickey was in a funk. He was doing everything he usually did: get up, go to school, come home, homework, dinner, sleep. But his seemingly mundane routine, that usually kept him afloat didn't feel nearly as good as it used to. He'd even gotten a fuckin' ninety-nine on his AP calculus test, like what the fuck?  He knew what was missing, of course, knew that the hole in his life would fill just nicely with a tattooed leather wearing dickhead. Those six months had been a bit of a shake up for the school. No one knew what to do with themselves when all of a sudden the most popular guy at school was hanging with the future valedictorian. Teachers nearly lost it when Ian Gallagher started showing up two whole days in a row, and even turning in completed assignments. Mickey's favorite teachers, Mr. Brennan, for his AP Human Geography glass even stopped Ian in the hall and accused him of bullying Mickey into doing his homework for him. But they'd been good together. They'd laughed and were happy. So, just as people noticed when their "friendship" began, they definitely noticed when said friendship ended.

Mickey was in the lunch line trying to ignore the girl whispering amongst themselves, when he got a good taste of just what they thought of him.

"I heard Ian swings both ways though. He's never actually dated a girl in school." Blonde Bimbo #4 stated.

HBB (Head blonde bimbo) Stacy sighed. "He's so amazing and cultured. It's the twenty-first century he can't fuck who he wants. But _Mickey Milkovich?_ They're so not even of the same world. There's so many better options . . . like me."

Mickey snorted, a little too loudly apparently, and grinned at the mean looks they shot his way. It's not like he'd been in the midst of the social calendar before Ian. He wasn't really interested. What upset him was the idea that he wasn't good enough for Ian. The idea that Ian was probably the one who ended things, or that it hadn't happened because _Ian_ would never wanna be with a guy like Mickey. It just wasn't fucking true, and it pissed him off. He just wanted someone, anyone to know that it was his decision, and he wasn't gonna be the mistress that Ian so badly wanted. But, no one really seemed to care.

"Those cunts talkin' shit over there?" Mandy asked as Mickey sat down across from her.

He shrugged. "More about Gallagher than me. It was more so about my lack of worthiness of the great Ian Gallagher."

"I'll fucking cut one of 'em. Teach them to stop running their fuckin' mouths."

"Down kitty. I don't give a fuck. He's kind of over rated, wasn't that good in the sac anyway."

Which was a lie. Not just a lie, but like, the lie of all lies because Ian Gallagher was lethal in bed and everyone knew it. His penis was beautiful and it made angels weep and Mickey missed it dearly. He also missed his friend. But he wasn't about to tell anyone else that.

The good news was Mandy already knew.

"Mom's been talkin' about a vacation for spring break. She thought it might be good for you to get away from all the high school drama ya know? Reading some college level math or something, clear your head."

His eyes stayed on his food. "It that obvious?"

"Not really," she lied. "but I hear there's great ass in Cancun. Maybe you won't stay in the hotel room for once. I'm sure I could hook you up."

Mickey snorted. "Oh yea, cause nothing says 'I'm not pathetic' like my baby sister going on a quest to get me dicked down. Thanks Mands."

"By three fuckin' minutes." Mandy huffed.  "My pleasure though, big bro."

They share a look that they don't often share. The look that says, "I'm here for you even though I won't say it and you don't want me to." It's always appreciated amongst the two. They've been together their whole lives, and that protection has always and will always be there.

"Speaking of ginger dicks." Mandy mumbled looking over Mickey's shoulder.

Mickey turns, because he hates himself, and catches Ian strolling into the cafeteria. It's like the whole world stops for him, or at least the teenage population, and his walk is like a dance that makes everyone around him envious. Tension settles over the cafeteria, and all eyes seem to lock in on Mickey and Ian. There are no secrets in that god forbidden school, and it becomes obvious the second they lock eyes and a wave of hushed whispers rocks the whole room.

Ian was the one to look down first and that somehow made Mickey feel good. He hoped every day that Ian felt like shit, it was the only thing to keep him going. Because he missed him way too fucking much.

"Think I'm gonna finish my shit meal in the library in peace." Mickey grinned sadly at Mandy as he began to pick up his stuff. "I know when I'm not wanted."

And boy was that a layered statement.

"Fuck them." She spat.

Mickey chuckled. "Cause that worked out so well last time . . .  See ya at home, sis."

Mickey left the table feet moving quickly to free him from the high school drama. He kept his head down, trying to stop himself from catching a glance of Ian. Ian caught sight of him, rushing through the line to chase after the dark-haired boy. Despite the fact that the entire cafeteria, includes all the juniors were staring, he still grabbed for him, still chose to make a scene.

"Mick—"

"Fuck off." Mickey hissed pulling his arm from Ian's grip. "Stop taking the piss out of me alright? Just leave me alone."

And then he was gone and the buzzing fucking bees roared louder than ever. Ian sighed stalking the opposite direction with lunch in hand. Despite being one of the coolest guys in school, Ian didn't have a designated crowd. That was what made him so amazing. He was mysterious, because he was always at the parties, always a part of everything, yet never really tried to be friends with anyone. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten in the cafeteria. The only reason he'd tried was because Mickey stopped going to library, and his only chance to see him was during lunch. That had went amazing, obviously. So, instead he sat across from Mandy who gave him the meanest looking bitch face he'd ever had the displeasure of receiving. It was actually scary.

"That seat's taken, dickface." She snarled.

Ian sighed. "Mickey just left. Besides there's five other empty seats here."

"Believe it or not you don’t get to have everything you want. And you got no right saying his name. That kid's a fucking gem compared to you."

"Yea . . . I know." He groaned quietly into his food. "I fucked up so bad."

Mandy rolled her eyes.

"No shit."

"Can you not be so fucking sarcastic for two minutes? What is it with you two? It's like fucking clockwork with you guys." Ian huffed. "I miss him Mandy."

"That's nice Ian, but missing him doesn't make up for jack shit. You fucked him, made him think you guys could be something more, and lead him on until the last second you possibly could, just so you wouldn't have to get your hands dirty. And now school, the place the sad little fucker loves, is ruined because every day people whisper about how Ian Gallagher, the son, the father, and the Holy Spirit couldn't have fucked him cause he's not even remotely good enough. He doesn't even stay after to help the seniors in credit recovery because all they do is nag him about you. Saying sorry and batting your eye lashes isn't gonna cut it. You fucked him up, okay?"

His eyes darkened at that, because Ian, the poor oblivious bastard, hadn't once thought about anything other than Mickey being mad at him.

"They really say that?"

"'Course they do. Anything to make themselves feel better about the fact you might be gay."

"But I am gay. Doesn't mean I'm gonna out us to the entire school. I mean if anything Mickey's made me gayer. Have you seen his calves? They're great calves. I could write poetry about his calves."

Mandy raised an eyebrow that reminded Ian so much of his former best friend/lover that his stomach cramped in anxiety.

"Yea okay, but you get it. I don't want anyone else. I just want Mickey."

"Oh god, the sappiness is making me nauseous." She winced.

"Then tell me how to get my best friend back, and I can go be sappy with him, dammit."

There was another eye roll and the flip of her hair as she sized him up. No one made him feel more uncomfortable than Mandy. The girl had a gift.

"I hear that Tuesdays he might stop and talk to Mr. Riley and help grade tests until the parking lot clears out. But you didn't hear that from me."

He nodded grabbing onto the information and running with it. He was so busy thinking he didn't notice Mandy standing up out of her seat to lean over him menacingly.

"If you hurt him again I **will** hurt you in ways your tiny brain cannot comprehend. Understand?"

"Y—Yea. Loud and clear."

"Fix it… He misses you."

He smiled wide and proud at that leaving Mandy to snort and shake her head. Fucking boys.

*                                                                                             *                                                                                             *

 

Mickey was in Mr. Riley's class grading the pre-calculus tests and it was truly hurting his soul. A few weeks away from spring break and it seemed as though kids were already throwing in the towel. One kid wrote idk for five questions. FIVE.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ." He mumbled making his umpteenth slash in the last five minutes.

There was a knock on the door, which was weird cause Riley didn't usually knock on his own door, but Mickey figured it was just some kid lookin' for help on a homework problem. But no. Because why come to the fuckin math hallway and ask questions about math, when you could just come and nag people to death instead? It was times like this when Mickey hated not being able to lock doors without a key.

"Oh come on, you have to have something better to do with your afternoon." Mickey groaned at the sight of Ian.

Ian smiled sheepishly. "Nope. Part of being a bad ass in high school is surprisingly not doing much."

"Wow, really gives me hope for our generation. That it?"

He shook his head, puppy dog mode in full force and Mickey's patience instantly evaporated at the sight. He was barely holding on by a thread and all the kid did was look at him.

"'Course not. I—I wanna talk to you. I wanna explain myself."

"How many times I gotta tell you, it's not necessary? I don't need a pep talk."

"It's not a pep talk—would you just listen? Just hear me out."

Mickey huffed crossing his arms but opened the door slightly so Ian could slide in.

"Teachers get out of their little meetings at three so you got till then."

Ian nodded gesturing for Mickey to sit down. They sat across from one another, Mickey standoffish at one of the student desks while Ian leaned against the teacher's. The lack of interest on Mickey's face was probably the closest Ian would ever get to teaching.

"I like you." Ian blurted out.

And there went his dreams of teaching cause Mickey's eyes widened and his spine straightened in his seat.

"And not like a, 'I didn't know what I had till it was gone' sort of deal either. I've liked you since we met in the library and you told me about science fiction. And then we fucked and I got scared cause you're pretty amazing at that too, and I didn't know what to do. I only have fuck buddies because no one ever asked for more when I was young enough to want it. You're the first person to try and help me with my homework since the fourth grade. When Frank was drunk and angry you let me stay. I've never had that before. There wasn't anyone else. There hasn't been anyone else since we met. You were it. And I fucked that up because I thought that—that it would be safer if we stayed where we were at. I thought it'd be better for both of us.

"It's no excuse but . . . when you asked me if I'd seen anyone else I didn't deny it because I thought us being together might fuck things up for you. And I knew how you'd react so I let you believe what you want…"

"The fuck are you talking about Gallagher?"

"I don't know if you've noticed but your place is kind of like a Mickey shrine. You've got awards from fucking math decathlons and genius camps everywhere. Your table was always littered with letters from Harvard and Yale and Princeton. I come from a family who gets held back on purpose, easily might I add, just so we can have two free meals a day. I'm not smart, Mick. I'm never gonna be smart. Is it so hard to see why to most people we wouldn't work? I didn't wanna hold you back."

Mickey was stumped at that. Because all he'd heard at school was how he wasn't good enough for Ian. Granted he'd gone to school with most of those kids for years and they were all dumb fucks, but still. You hear something enough and it'll take root.

"The story round here is _I'm_ not good enough for _you_ and not because I have a dick either surprisingly enough."

"Well fuck them. They're all just grabbing at straws for their own amusement. They don't matter."

Mickey nodded softly looking down at his hands as the silence engulfed them.

Ian bit into his lip pushing off the desk and taking the courage to put himself in front of Mickey so that they were eye to eye. And of course his eyes were just as beautiful and blue as the day they met. How could he not wanna be with him?

"Mickey. I want you. Just you. You weren't a fuck buddy. You were my friend and you were more than that; I miss you alright? I'm sorry for being an asshole."

Mickey peered over at him over the brim of his glasses shyly.

Ian smiled wide and annoying at him and Mickey was truly helpless. Asshole.

"You're a fucking dick you know that?" But he was smiling and that warmed him to his soul.

Ian reached for Mickey then, missing his lips almost most of all. They each groaned softly reveling in that tough. Kissing is fun. Tongue is fun too.  Teacher probably in charge of your letter of recommendation for college walking in on your tonguing down your ex-but-maybe-not-ex in the middle of his classroom? Not so fun.

Mr. Riley cleared his throat and the two teens broke apart blushing and huffing up a storm.

"I take it you finished grading those tests Mr. Milkovich?"

"Y—yea uh—" He rushed out of his seat grabbing the stack of paper that'd been long forgotten. "Period three's average was an eighty three."

Mr. Riley smirked taking in the flustered teen that'd been smart enough to teach his class when he's met him freshmen year. Then there was that Gallagher kid who could often be found smoking a cigarette on school grounds. Go figure. He felt like the kid deserved anything that made his face look like that.

"Cool. See you in fourth tomorrow. I want you to help a group of struggling sophomores okay?"

"Okay . . . Yea, sure. Tomorrow."

Mr. Riley watched as Mickey shoved a fumbling Ian towards the door. He laughed. No one could ever call his job boring.

"That was a close call huh?" Ian smirked cigarette perched between his lips as he followed Mickey to his car.

He rolled his eyes. "Two seconds with you and we're already getting caught."

"But you are, right? With me?"

Mickey moved closer until their shoulders were pressed together.

"'Course I am."

They smiled at each other and all was good in the world again.

*                                                                                             *                                                                                             *

 

Mandy arrived home to the glorious sounds of the bed and wall meeting rapidly, that told her the depressing mopey version of her brother was hopefully no more. There was of course the possibility that that was their parents, but Mandy had no doubt in her mind that her dad wasn't dishing out a pounding like that. Plus Mickey, bless the poor bastard's heart, was a little loud. She plugged in her ear buds and cranked the music up loud enough for her ears to throb. She was happy to oblige the reunion of two fucking idiots.

Meanwhile, upstairs Ian and Mickey were on their second round and completely wrapped up in each other. Quite literally.

Mickey grabbed for Ian's cotton clad hips trying to drag him closer despite the limited space between them already. He was hooked on him already, just like that, and the sounds or noises he made because of this were not his fault.

"You get fuckin' bigger while you were away?" He chuckled throatily gasping for air.

"You get tighter while you were away?"

"Touché Gallagher. Now fuck me harder."

"So needy."

But he did and the results were amazing. Mickey clenched his legs so tight around Ian's back there were sure to be bruises on each of them. Ian kissed him and sucked and bit at his lips dragging the most delicious sounds out of Mickey. His glasses were off and there was nothing to stop Ian from looking into those gorgeous baby blues, just as there was nothing there to stop Mickey from grabbing at Ian's tattoo clad body. They were so hot for each other it was concerning.

"Fuck, fuck Ian deeper. Shit that's good." Mickey whimpered.

The bed creaked and then thumped harder as Ian grabbed at Mickey's bare ass pulling his thighs in closer and ramming him as deep as he could. Their hands ran all over each other, lips, teeth, and tongue doing the same. When Ian hit the spot that made Mickey cry out, he reached for the slats of the headboard going to town on the bundle of nerves inside him.

"Want you to come, just like this, Mick."

"Fuckin—Shit! Shit right there." He huffed hips rutting upwards.

Ian kept at it, swirling his hips so that he dragged over that spot, and it made Mickey feel like a virgin all over again. And he knew that Ian Gallagher was dangerous because he made every time feel like that first time.

When he came his entire body arched into it, chasing that high that pulsed through his body like a techno beat. He throbbed and gasped for air as he climaxed and then shouted even louder when Ian found a way to get his dick in his mouth. Before he knew it they were collapsing together sweaty and tender and full of happiness. That blissful high was of course horribly interrupted by none other than Mandy.

"Time to put the dicks away boys. Mom just pulled up and you know she'll start on dinner soon. If dad catches a whiff of this you're dead." She smirked closing the door just as fast as it had opened.

Mickey groaned covering his face with a pillow as the peace was completely shattered.

"What? Don't tell me your dad's a homophobe?"

"It's not that. He just doesn't really approve of me in a relationship period. He thinks they'll get in the way of my greatness, but then he pretty much lets Mandy do whatever she wants which actually fucks her up even more cause like what does that mean? Besides, no one but Mandy knows I'm gay… Well and the entire school apparently."

"Yea, sorry about that." Ian grinned sheepishly.

Mickey shook his head snuggling closer to Ian.

"'Snot your fault. We hung out cause we wanted to. Whatever happens tomorrow, I still won't care what they think." He assured him. "You wanna stay? For dinner?"

Ian smiled. "I do have food every now and again at home Mick. I'm not a rat scavenging for scraps."

"Yea, but here I can see you eat. C'mon don't make me beg."

He sat up in bed, legs dangling over the side and stretched his arms above his head. Ian liked this position very much. He couldn't help but find him beautiful, His lips automatically chasing Mickey's skin. He wanted nothing more than to forget everything in the world but the two of them.

"Hey cut that out; I got like three hours of AP work to get done. And I heard you've got an essay due Friday on Beloved."

Ian huffed grumpily. "You're gonna turn me into a nerd like when we first met aren't you?"

Mickey beamed. "Yep. C'mon Freckles."

Downstairs, Mandy was playing nice with Mama Milkovich trying to get the keys to the family car for Saturday. When Ian and Mickey appeared all conversation ceased, and tension entered the room. They didn't know that she knew.

"Is it okay if Ian stays for dinner?"

She stuttered but nodded. "Sure. I'll just set a place for your . . . friend."

Ian and Mickey shared a look that couldn't be platonic in an alternate universe let alone the one they were in, and headed for the living room.

They sat on the couch, legs tangled as Mickey worked on all his AP shit and Ian struggled over Beloved on his laptop. Ian had taken one look at the AP Calc homework and was sure his brain melted a little bit. But boy did he love watching Mickey do all that shit. His brows furrowing together, his glasses falling to the edge of his nose until he pushed it back up with his pencil, those adorable fingers pressing buttons on his graphing calculator. The boy was perfect, and Ian adored him in the least gay way possible. He was beautiful and sexy with those thick rimmed glasses on carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"You always work this hard even after school?" Ian asked.

Mickey nodded. "Have to man. Gotta make something of myself and all that."

Ian wanted to tell him he already was something. That he was important and wonderful, AP or not. But then Terry Milkovich entered the house and out went that idea.

"I'm home!"

Terry Milkovich was a business man. He had a really good job that he'd worked hard for. He paid taxes and even recycled. He worked hard for his money so that he could take care of his family, and so he wanted only the absolutely best for them. (strictly according to his views)

And for Mickey, his son who had bypassed kindergarten first grade and knew his multiplication tables by five, the world meant Ivy League. It meant all AP classes and no job and no friends and no life. School was his job. School was his friend. And School was most definitely his life. Some guy with tattoos all over him and a grin so cocky you didn't know whether to slap him or kiss him? Ian Gallagher was not in the lesson plan.

"Hey son. How's school?" Terry said as his first words to Mickey.

"Good Dad."

"Better be. Gotta be the best, ya know?" He grinned. "Not that that'll be problem."

"Yea, I know Dad."

It was the most depressing thing Ian had ever seen. He much preferred his conversations with his dad that usually involved screaming and a few bloody knuckles.

"You here for Mandy? It's a school night, I don't need her out at all hours."

"N—No I—"

"He's with me, Dad." Mickey interrupted.

Terry raised an eyebrow looking between the two. "Huh?"

"This is Ian; he's with me."

Ian could see Terry's easy go lucky mood darken immediately, and he wondered just how far he was willing to go to keep Mickey in line.

"He's tutoring me." He blurted. "In English."

Mickey shot him a glare that Ian willfully ignored.

"Your son is very smart sir."

"Hmm. Well don’t I know it? Just as long as your work gets done first. Colleges don't want fluctuation in your grades."

Mickey seemed to almost  bow to his father, assuring him school as his number one priority, and Ian wasn't sure what he should feel more: worried or jealous. He waited until Terry was out of sight to address it.

"Hey," Ian murmured pressing his knee against Mickey's. "You wanna go out this weekend?"

Mickey's eyes bulged. "What like on a date??"

"Yea. I wanna take you out. Friday sound good?"

"Have you ever even been on a date before?"

"Nope. You?"

Mickey shook his head shyly.

"Cool. So on Friday I'll pick you up and we'll do something other than fuck for a change."

Mickey nodded before peering over at him.

"We're still gonna fuck afterwards though, right?"

Ian chuckled. "Whatever you want."

By the time dinner was ready Mickey had highlighted and post-it noted all over the place in his book for the advanced English class. He's also finished the AP Calc homework, and managed to help Ian choose quotes for his paper.

"Jeez you really do need a tutor." He'd smirked.

Ian completed an outline—Yes, Ian you need an outline—and was writing when Mandy came to get them.

"Come on homos, dinner's ready."

"Hardy fucking har har." Mickey muttered.

The dinner table was a brooding circle of male dominance. Terry sat at the head of the table. Terry ate first. Terry spoke first, second, and third before anyone else. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but Ian could see now why Mickey was so into school and it definitely wasn't all by choice. So, he reached under the table and knotted their ankles together, and maybe he put his hand on his thigh just to let him know he was there with him, because they were together now and he didn't want to fuck that up.

"So, Ian, is it? What your GPA running these days?"

Ian grinned around his fork. "I think the last time I was forced to sit with a counselor I was running a solid one point three. That was sophomore year though."

Terry coughed and Mandy found this quite amusing while Mickey just sent Ian another glare. Mrs. Milkovich was just praying no one had a heart attack during dinner.

"And you to are… friends?"

Ian shrugged. "We see each other." ('s penises)

Mickey was having a meltdown watching his father and Ian go head to head. No one went head to head with Terry. No one.

"And how do your parents feel about all this?"

"All of what sir?" He asked pleasantly.

"The tattoos and the gpa? What about your future?"

Ian smiled. "Well, sir, pardon my French but my dad's a piece of shit and so I think he figured I'd just follow suit. My mom's dead so that's kind of a moot point anyway."

"Oh Ian, I'm so sorry." Mrs. Milkovich murmured.

"It's okay. I made peace with it, I guess. I'm not good at school like Mickey. I'm street smart and that's about it. But my ma used to tell me I was gorgeous and to capitalize on it, so I guess you could say that's my future."

Mickey didn't like where the conversation was headed. He hated the idea of Ian looking down on himself. He wanted to tell his parents how funny Ian was, how he could tell Mickey all these interesting facts about tattoos and piercings, how he had the greatest laugh Mickey'd ever heard. Ian was more than a fucking pretty face and it didn't seem fair to say otherwise.

When dinner was over Mickey tugged Ian upstairs with declarations of intense studying to be done. Instead he locked his door and put on music, which wasn't unusual for the boy, throwing his newly found boyfriend on his bed where he belonged.

"Your dad is kinda scary." Ian hummed as Mickey worked on the buttons of his pesky shirt.

"Mhm."

"But I get the feeling you don't wanna talk about that."

Mickey paused peering up at him. "You wanna talk about your self-worth?"

"Your right." Ian smirked pulling him forward.

Needless to say they didn't talk for a little.

"You gotta be quiet man, my folks will hear."

Ian, who was in the middle of prepping him, used that moment to touch the spot inside of Mickey that never failed to get him riled up.

" _Jesus_. This isn't gonna work. It's not gonna work; it's too obvious, we can't be quiet." He groaned.

"Shut the fuck up." Ian whispered disappearing under the covers.

And as Ian's mouth filled, Mickey's self-control depleted.

"Holy. Fuck."

The fact that they made it through the night without an interruption was a true blessing. Mickey came twice, as did Ian who hid his face in Mickey's neck gasping wetly against the skin as they collapsed together.

"Missed you." Ian whispered hands running up Mickey's sides. "all of you."

Mickey pulled his closer.

"Me too."

*                                                                                                             *                                                                             *

 

"The fuck are we doing Gallagher?!" Mickey grumbled as Ian threaded their arms together.

"It's the classic teenage first date experience, Mick. I'll pay for your ticket. We'll sit in the back row and as soon as the lights go out I'll put my arm around you. Maybe I'll yawn a little and fondle your tit. And then we'll totally make out. I'll even spring for popcorn, you want popcorn?"

Mickey's eye arched into the heavens and he didn't look very impressed, but he wasn't about to turn down free food.

"I want a fuckin' nacho too."

"God I love it when you talk grumpy to me." Ian sighed.

They walked into the theater hand in hand, a conscious effort on Ian's part. Mickey had a feeling he was trying to embrace their relationship as hard as possible, to prove something. He could've told him he didn't really need all that shit, that all he'd needed for the last year was Ian, but his boyfriend had warm palms and it was cold out, so fuck it.

They sat in the back of the theater armed with oversized cokes, a bucket of popcorn, and nachos. Mickey was ready to get down to business.

"You won't find me sexy when I'm eating. All of this food will be gone before we leave. I need you to know that. Me in my natural habitat was not meant for the world." He explained honestly.

Ian fuckin' beamed. "Good. Me neither. We'll be pigs together."

And pigs they are.

The first twenty minutes of the movie are them chewing and drinking and oohing and ahhing at the screen. They go for Deadpool because they each have secret crushes on Ryan Renolds, and goddammit they like superhero movies too! And it's weird because they're friends and they laugh and it's amazing to be together not in a romantic way, but in a "your presence makes me happy" sort of way. But then there is that romantic part, that part where they're both extremely aware of how close they're sitting. That part where their thighs touch and they can't help but want more things to touch. That part where Ian kisses him and his glasses move up his face, but he doesn't care about anything but what their lips are doing.

It's so fucking good too. Mickey can't remember ever being so happy, so filled to the brim with euphoria, but that's what Ian is for him. He makes him happy. Happier than straight As and fucking science fiction, though those are still his greatest loves. Ian is something away from all that. He's carefree, and he's funny, and beautiful. He's his best friend, his boyfriend.

By the time the movie ended, they were all worked up and in need of some legitimate privacy. Mickey's glasses were crooked, and Ian's lips were kiss swollen as they exited the theater together both aching to be out of the public eye.

"Where are you going?" Ian muttered as Mickey turned the car on.

"We can't very well fuck in a movie theater parking lot, Gallagher. Please tell me you know that?"

Ian sighed. "Yea, alright."

They drive for a little while, Mickey looking for a place that's safe, and Ian getting progressively antsy. He eventually traded his seat for leaning half on top of Mickey as he drove. His lips were on his boyfriend's neck nibbling and sucking like the obnoxious slut that he was.

" _Jesus,_ Ian, I'm trying to drive here."

Ian's hand crept into his lap grabbing at things that did not keep Mickey's hands steady on the wheel at ALL.

"Just pull over already, Mick. C'monnnn." He whispered cunningly.

"Fuckin' hate you." He huffed pulled the car over to the side of the road.

"Sure you do."

 

*Thirty Minutes later*

 

One cannot describe the immense pleasure that a patrol cop receives when he gets to bust some teens. Especially on a Friday night. Especially in a Range Rover. And especially when they're getting it on. It's like fucking Christmas genuinely.

"Would you look what we have here? Foggy windows. The chalky thump of teenage lust rocking the car back and forth.  I do in deed believe we got ourselves a little love nest going on here."

With his handy dandy flashlight at the ready he flipped on his lights and stepped out of the car ready to go in for the kill. It was glorious.

The sharp ping of the flashlight on the glass caused the two boys in the back seat to halt in their sexual relations.

"The fuck was that?" Mickey panted.

"Nothin', keep going." Ian whined at his boyfriend who was no longer riding him.

And that was when they saw the lights.

"Oh shit."

 

*Forty-Five Minutes later*

 

"My dad answers the door, we're fucked. My mom answers the door, we're fucked. Either way we are absolutely fucked!" Mickey ranted as the cop escorted the two love struck teens to the door.

Mickey and Ian were covered in hickeys and sweaty with guilt. There was no getting out of this one.

Maria Milkovich tightened her robe as she descended down the stairs wondering just who in the world was at their door that late at night. She wasn't sure what she'd been expected, but her son accompanied by a police officer and that Gallagher boy sure wasn't at the top of the list.

"What's going on, Mikhail?"

Mickey swallowed not meeting his mother's eye. "We were on the side of the road and he uh—he caught us."

"Caught you doing what?"

The absolute terror on her son's face was all she needed to know.

"Thank you, officer, for making sure they got home safe." She sighed. "Get in here you two."

They trudged in, both trying to figure a way out of the situation at hand. Little did they know it wasn't necessary.

"Upstairs. Before you wake up your father. And _no_ funny business."

Mickey's eyes widened. "Mom…"

"It's okay." She insisted touching his cheek. "I promise it's okay."

And he trusts her, the way he's always trusted her, because she's his mom and she's always understood him better than anyone. So, for now it's okay.

"What was that?" Ian asks once they've disappeared into Mickey's room.

"She knows."

"Shit. I—I'm sorry, Mick. It's all my fault. I'm sorry."

Mickey sighed. "It's alright."

"It's not. I outed you. Again!"

"You didn't out me. I just think she knows. I think she's known for a while."

Ian eyed him dubiously. "And you're okay with that?"

"I—I think so. As long as she's okay with it. And she didn't kick me out the house so…"

"Okay."

"Yea… Okay."

They lie down in Mickey's bed, and nothing makes him happier than not having to ask Ian to stay. It's really cool to just sit there with this person who makes you happy and makes you laugh.

They stay up all night together. There's a paper that needs to be written, so calculations to be calculated, but he just doesn't care. And that's okay.

"So what happens Monday?" Mickey asked.

He kept his eyes on Ian's tattoos, tracing the outlines with his fingertips.

"You wanna eat lunch in the library again? Or… maybe we could eat in the cafeteria."

Mickey grinned, despite trying with all his might not to. They both knew what he was saying.

"You sure? You got a rep to protect don't you?"

Ian nodded. "I'm sure."

He reached for Mickey's glasses pressing his lips against the indents in his cheek bones they'd left. They slept better than they had in a long time that night.

*                                                                                             *                                                                                             *

 

Mickey was running late. His AP Econ class had taken their sweet time during class and now their teacher was holding up his fuckin' lunch over the bullshit kids who couldn't shut the fuck up for ten minutes.

"Alright. You can go."

Mickey yanked himself out of his seat heading straight for the cafeteria. He didn't want to miss—

"Hey."

Mickey's step stuttered. "What are you doin' here?"

"Waiting for you. We got a lunch date remember?" Ian grinned.

"Hmm… Okay."

"Do we hold hands?" Ian asked as they fell in step together.

Mickey snorted shoulder checking him. "Fuck off, Man."

But Ian just smiled, and it make Mickey feel weird inside.

They stepped into the cafeteria and, despite Mickey's fears, did not burst into glames. There were looks, some obvious whispers, but no one was bad enough to stand up to Ian Gallagher period, let alone question his relationship. To his face anyway. They got to their tube in peace, and each felt giddy whether they admitted so or not.

"You finish your English stuff yet?" Mickey asked kicking at Ian's backpack.

He sighed. "No. Fuckin' Shakespeare, man. Ruining children's lives from the grave. It's borderline abuse."

"Oh yea, sure. What happened to my big tough man?"

"He's right here looking sexy as ever, now can we focus please? If you don't help me you're gonna have to come to terms with the fact that I am destined to be your very attractive trophy wife, while you go on to cure cancer or something." He whined.

Mickey snorted. "You're an idiot."

"Yea, but I'm your idiot right?"

He smiled. "Yea. I suppose I'll keep you."

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And y'all thought I wasn't gone add another chapter! Hahahahahaha. I'm not that cruel! I hope you guys enjoyed it! I love highschool Ian and Mickey. Comments and kudos are as always much appreciated.


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